


Can You Not

by beware_phangirl (dantiloquent)



Series: One Shots [9]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Party, Strangers, what even is flirting idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3693180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dantiloquent/pseuds/beware_phangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"a mutual friend invited us to their laser tag party and we’re the last two alive on opposite teams and goddammit if I’m going down you’re going down with me" au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Not

**Author's Note:**

> i wasn't gonna post this here but it's going well on tumblr so  
> you can read it here

“How is this even a game? I’m dying from lack of oxygen and it feels like my lungs have been torn out,” Dan complains - quietly, of course, because he may hate this but he’s not going to let them be found just because of his incompetence and pettiness. “Is this what they’re calling fun these days?”

“It’s the entertainment industry, Howell,” PJ replies, voice significantly less ragged. Well, at least one of them is somewhat fit.

“Oh, so we’re resorting to last names now?”

“We’re in the midst of battle, we may as well act the part,” PJ explains. He dares to peer around the wall of dark concrete protruding from the floor for a second before returning to face Dan. “It was Gav’s idea, wasn’t it? Don’t shoot _me_. I mean, we’re on the same team, aren’t we?”

Dan groans, throwing his head back against the object they’ve found themselves crouching behind. Fuck knows how long they’ve been playing this game of laser tag. Half an hour at least, he hopes, because then he would have an excuse to be so bloody exhausted. “Gav was always a stupid name. What sort of a name is _Gav_?”

“You’re taking your petty anger out on others again,” PJ remarks. Dan glares him down through the dark, but doesn’t shove him like he normally would; that’s a movement he can neither manage, nor afford to do. The only reason they’re daring to talk is because in this area of the arena, they could be behind any of the walls which construct the messy maze. Dan takes a few breathes to regain his composure before shuffling over to the edge of the obstacle, beside PJ. He feels the sweat move under his arms, and he can only imagine what his hair must look like now, damp and curling.

“Remind me never to go to one of these again,” he whispers hoarsely. “I should’ve said I had to go to my Great Aunt’s funeral, or something. Or her dog.”

“You don’t have a great aunt,” PJ points out, and Dan can practically hear the eyeroll. “Or a dog.”

“Gav wouldn’t know that, though, would he? He doesn’t know anything. He thinks _laser tag_ makes a fun game,” Dan retorts petulantly. PJ shushes him, prods him with the heel of his shoe.

“Having a grudge against them because of their name is very shallow.”

“I don’t have a grudge because of his nam-”

“And complaining isn’t gonna make this end any quicker. Winning will, so if you would just _shut up_.”

Maybe exhaustion makes PJ angry. Either way, Dan settles back on his aching heels, huffing out of blown out cheeks again. A few seconds pass without suspicious shuffling before he speaks again.

“How many of them are there left?”

“One,” PJ replies instantly.

“Wait, you mean we’re actually doing kinda okay? Cowardice is the way forward after all,” Dan gives a short laugh. “Two of us and one of them, we can do this.” He pauses. “How did you know, anyway?”

PJ looks at him with an expression of disbelief.

Dan blinks. “What?”

“It’s on the gun, you idiot,” PJ says, exasperated. Dan looks down and, written in a sickening green neon, are the remaining numbers of each team.

“I forgot,” Dan mutters, shifting the plastic shape to the other hand. The arena had done well with their colour scheme until the green. But then, you can’t go wrong with all black.

“Just, concentrate,” PJ says in finality, and turns his back to Dan to edge his gaze around the wall again. Dan sighs, but, following PJ’s request, shuffles to the other side and peers out into the shadow.

The arena is a mass of dusty concrete walls and platforms, made to provide the perfect hiding places - but it also means that it’s impossible to find anyone without getting shot down. How are they expecting anyone to hunt the opposition down, when searching is futile and will get you ‘killed’. It looks a bit like a giant has got some super glue, smeared it over some tarmac, and dropped a load of matchsticks on top and hoped they’ll stick. _Ha, stick_. Dan shakes his head. Now is not the time for stupid similes and puns. 

Dan refrains from wrapping his nails against the tattered synthetic gun, but does stare at his score until it blurs. PJ and his plan to ‘just hide’ has worked out quite well for him so far.

There’s a kick of trainers on the wooden slats of a bridge above them, and Dan catches sight of a shadow flickering.

“I think I’ve got him,” PJ utters triumphantly.

“Wait!” But it’s too late, and PJ has crept out from behind the only safety he’s got. There’s the repetitive zap of a laser, and PJ’s lights die.

“Crap.”

“You don’t say,” Dan spits. “You twat.”

“I gotta go,” PJ says apologetically.

“Why do they even make people leave this place anyway? It just means I’m left alone. In the dark.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say. Just, try and work out where he is on your way out,” Dan takes a few steps to the height of the wall, stretching his legs. Fucking _ow_.

“Yeah, I’ll use my morse code,” PJ drawls. “Good luck.”

“I’ll offer him some berries and see how that works out,” Dan murmurs bitterly as PJ withdraws. There’s a snippet of his warm laugh before all goes silent, save for the hum of a machine which Dan really hopes is just the air conditioning.

He spies the back of the vests everyone was presented with at the beginning retreating towards the back of the space. 

“Great,” Dan mutters, slipping between the obstacles as he attempts to follow them. He dodges round the objects and under the platforms until he enters a new, differently lit part of the arena. Low red lights set the room in a ghastly glow.

“I know you’re there,” calls the voice which must belong to his opponent. It’s unfamiliar, almost northern and youthful, and how did this guy manage to get this far, if he’s yelling his position to anyone who will listen?

“That makes two of us,” Dan replies quietly, the voice posing as guidance for him to weave through the sloppy paths. Sound travels easily when there’s only two of them left.

“I thought I’d get to know you before I inevitably defeat you,” they continue. Dan scoffs.

“Cockiness doesn’t suit you…” he trails off, realising he has no idea whom he’s talking to. God, he hopes this is his ‘enemy’ and not some murderer, or something.

“Phil,” they complete. “I’m Phil.” Dan searches his memory, but can’t recall the name. Gav must be a mutual friend between the two of them.

“Dan.” He may have been unfairly thrown into battle, but he hasn’t lost his manners.

“Are you the one with the really annoying hair?”

“Are you calling my style annoying, or my hair for constantly getting in my face?”

“Considering our situation, I think I’m allowed to say both.”

“Thanks,” Dan mutters. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“It’s a shame that I’m going to obliterate you. I thought you were cute.”

Dan sputters and tries to stifle it as he leans his back on one stretch of wall. 

“Are you flirting with me?”

“If we’re gonna die, I have to try to reproduce. Continue the gene pool, you know?” Dan is pretty certain Phil’s voice is coming from the other side of the wall, vibrating through the concrete to his ear. He better be right.

“I really don’t think that’s how science works,” Dan laughs. “‘ _We’re_ gonna die’?”

“What about it?”

“Well, a minute ago you were all Captain I’m-Going-To-Win.”

“I have to cover all bases. Hence the flirting.”

“‘Hence th-’ oh my fucking God,” Dan has to try really hard not to lose it, a laugh cracking through the rest of his sentence. “I don’t think making innuendoes is the best thing to do in a kids game centre, Phil.”

“Are you flustered? Now _that’s_ adorable.”

“Jesus Christ, _please,_ it’s distracting,” Dan pleads, voice dipping as he finishes. The wall is cool as it presses against his side.

“Well then I’ve got to keep going.”

“Can you not?”

“No. Not to worry though, I’m still gonna kick your ass.”

“Oh no you won’t. If I’m going down, you bet your fucking ‘gene pool’ that you’re going down with me.”

Dan’s reached the boundary of what he really hopes is the only thing separating him and Phil. Shutting his eyes forebodingly, he takes a deep breath before jumping round, lifting his gun as he does so.

The space is empty, and Dan swears at himself as he lowers his gun. He’s just made an idiot of himself. Halo really doesn’t apply to real life, graphics be damned.

“Hi.”

Dan jumps nearly out of his skin, spinning round to face Phil. There’s a blare of sound, and his lights drone as they flicker out. Dan tears his incredulous gaze away from his now dark chest, up to the laughing guy in front of him.

“You fucking-”

-

Phil’s still laughing as they leave the centre, hands clutching at his chest and grin pulling at his jaw. Even when he’s not giggling he’s smiling, all teeth and sparkling eyes. Dan sends a silent thanks to the heavens that he didn’t have to see Phil during the game: it definitely would have been a distraction. Dan’s pretty sure ‘Don’t fall in love with the enemy’ is at the top of the ‘Laser Tag 101’ list, if it exists. 

“You should’ve seen your face,” he gasps.

“So you’ve said.”

“I’m as surprised as you are! Fake it ‘til you make it really does work.”

“I really thought I had you,” Dan pouts. “You so cheated. You know it, I know it, we all know it.” He can’t stay annoyed for long, though, because Phil’s doing that endearing laugh thing again.

“I would stay to hear you try to take away my success, but I gotta dash. Why don’t you fill me in on the details over coffee later in the week?”

Dan’s jaw falls slack, partly at the cheek Phil apparently has, mainly at the whole _ok so this is happening_ thing.

“Well,” Dan stutters. “Do you have a pen for me to write down my number?”

Phil digs around in his pocket before pulling out a mini-sized biro, holding it out for Dan to take.

“And something for me to write on?”

Phil holds out his hand. Dan makes eye contact with him, but he just grins.

“If you insist,” he mutters. He thought he had got passed the stage of life where he would scrawl his number on anyone who would have it, but clearly not, and he curls his non dominant hand around Phil’s fingers before he prints messy digits over the skin. It’s just for support, is all.

“I may not have beaten you at this, but I can totally whoop you at Mario Kart.”

“Do grownups even play that anymore?” Phil asks, an amused look in his eye. God, Dan could get used to Phil smiling at him. He almost forgets to take his hand away from Phil’s, so clearly the addiction is spreading. He could totally get used to that, too.

“Do grownups even play laser tag?” Dan replies, his grudge towards the game clear in his voice. “I bet you’re one of those dorks who plays it every week, anyway.”

Phil smiles guiltily. “Touché,” he happily concedes, swooping Dan’s fringe - _still annoying_ , he had said - out of his eyes with glacial, delicate finger tips. He starts to walk away, before turning on his heel, walking backwards to shout one last remark Dan’s way. His smile shapes his words, cheeks flushed now they’re in the open.

“Maybe the gene pool has some hope after all!”

_Oh my God._


End file.
